Chapter 25 Twenty five
It had been weeks.
Weeks of silence. Weeks of unanswered questions. Weeks of Harper feeling like she was screaming into a void while the world around her kept moving as if nothing was wrong.
She had tried—she really had.
She warned her mother about Alpha Derek. About the way his smile never reached his eyes. About the fear that crawled up her spine every time his name was mentioned. About Koda. About the dungeon. About the chains. About the screams she still heard in her sleep.
But her mother hadn’t listened.
She never listened.
And now the day had come.
The wedding.
Harper stood in the doorway of her childhood bedroom, arms folded tightly around herself, watching as unfamiliar women fluttered around her mother like birds. Fabric rustled. Jewelry clinked. Laughter filled the air—light, careless, cruel.
Her mother stood in the center of it all, wrapped in white silk, glowing with excitement.
Harper felt sick.
She was still in her nightwear, oversized and wrinkled, her hair loose and untouched. A silent act of rebellion.
“Harper,” her mother called suddenly, noticing her at last. “Why are you still dressed like that? Time is going. You need to get ready.”
Harper didn’t move.
“I won’t be attending,” she muttered.
The words were quiet—but heavy.
“What did you say?” her mother asked, turning fully now.
Harper lifted her head. Her eyes burned. “I said I won’t be attending.”
Her voice rose, sharp and clear.
The chatter in the room died instantly.
Every woman froze, eyes darting between Harper and her mother.
Her mother let out a nervous laugh, far too quick. “Oh—excuse us for a moment, ladies,” she said, forcing a smile. “We’ll just need a minute.”
The women exchanged awkward glances, then nodded and filed out, whispers trailing behind them as the door closed.
Silence slammed into the room.
Her mother’s smile vanished.
“Harper,” she said carefully, lowering her voice, “I know you’re upset, but you have to be there.”
“Why?” Harper snapped, walking toward the couch and dropping onto it. “It’s not like my presence will magically make this right.”
“This is my wedding,” her mother said, irritation creeping in. “You’re my daughter.”
“And that’s supposed to mean what?” Harper shot back. “That I stand there smiling while you marry a monster?”
Her mother stiffened. “Don’t say that.”
“I will say it,” Harper said, standing abruptly. “Someone has to.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” her mother replied sharply. “Derek is a good man. He’s respected. He’s powerful.”
“Exactly,” Harper said bitterly. “Powerful enough to lock his own son in chains.”
“Well it is for the better” Her mother blurted out
“You know about him?” Harper asked with amusement.
“Yes I do,” her mother uttered.
“And yet you still want to marry that man” Harper scoffed in disbelief.
Her mother’s eyes flickered. “Koda is… complicated.”
“No,” Harper snapped. “He’s abused.”
“That’s not true.”
“I saw it!” Harper shouted. “I saw him dragged away. I heard him screaming. I watched guards flog him while you were probably picking flowers and cake flavors.”
Her mother’s face paled—but she shook her head. “You’re exaggerating. You always do this. You let your imagination—”
“My imagination didn’t put blood on the floor!” Harper yelled. “My imagination didn’t put fear in his eyes!”
Her mother raised her voice too. “Enough!”
The word cracked like a whip.
Harper froze, chest heaving.
“You think I haven’t thought about this?” her mother continued. “You think I don’t know the risks? Do you have any idea what it’s like to live alone in this world as an omega surrounded by higher wolves and politics?”
“I didn’t ask you to marry him,” Harper said coldly.
“I needed security,” her mother snapped. “I needed protection.”
“And what about me?” Harper asked softly. “Who protects me?”
Her mother faltered.
“You think Derek will protect us,” Harper went on, her voice trembling. “But what happens when I displease him? When I ask the wrong question? When I’m in his way?”
“He wouldn’t hurt you,” her mother said quickly.
“You don’t know that,” Harper whispered. “You don’t know him.”
“I know enough,” her mother insisted. “He’s giving us a future.”
“A future built on fear,” Harper said. “In silence. In obedience.”
Her mother rubbed her temples. “You’re being dramatic.”
“No,” Harper said, tears finally slipping free. “I’m being honest.”
She took a shaky breath. “Do you know what he told me once? That consequences exist for people who talk too much.”
Her mother’s hands stilled.
“He didn’t say it with anger,” Harper continued. “He said it calmly. Like it was a fact. Like gravity.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“It means he knows how to scare people without raising his voice,” Harper said. “And that terrifies me.”
Her mother sat down slowly on the edge of the bed.
“You’re scared because of Koda,” she said quietly.
“Yes,” Harper replied immediately. “And because of you.”
Her mother looked up sharply. “Me?”
“You don’t see it,” Harper said, shaking her head. “Or maybe you don’t want to. You laugh things off. You excuse them. You tell yourself it’s normal because it’s easier than admitting you made a mistake.”
“That’s unfair.”
“So is forcing me to celebrate this,” Harper said.
Silence stretched.
Finally, her mother spoke again, her voice softer. “I can’t call this off.”
“I know,” Harper said.
“There are alliances. Expectations.”
“I know.”
“And if I don’t go through with it—”
“You’ll be punished,” Harper finished quietly.
Her mother looked at her in shock.
“I’m not stupid,” Harper said. “I see the fear in your eyes too.”
Her mother’s shoulders slumped.
“So you do understand,” she whispered.
“I understand too well,” Harper said. “That’s why I can’t stand there and pretend this is love.”
Her mother stood again, walking toward her. “Please,” she said, reaching out. “Just come. For me.”
Harper stepped back.
“No,” she said firmly. “Not like this.”
Her mother’s face hardened. “Then you leave me no choice.”
Harper swallowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” her mother said, voice tight, “that whether you attend or not, this wedding is happening. And I won’t let you embarrass me.”
Harper laughed weakly. “You’re more worried about embarrassment than your daughter’s safety.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It is,” Harper said. “And deep down, you know it.”
Her mother turned away. “Get dressed,” she said quietly. “Or stay in your room. But don’t ruin this.”
The words sliced deeper than any insult.
Harper felt something inside her crack.
“Fine,” she said softly.
Her mother turned back, relief flickering across her face. “You’ll come?”
Harper met her gaze, eyes hollow. “I’ll be there.”
But not the way you think.
She turned and walked out, leaving her mother alone in the room—white silk, mirrors, and all the choices she refused to face.
As Harper shut the door behind her, one thought burned in her mind, steady and dangerous:
If no one else would stop this wedding…
she would.
No matter the cost.
—
Harper stood frozen at the foot of the stairs, the pink gown clinging to her like a lie she hadn’t agreed to tell.
The fabric was soft, delicate, expensive. It flowed around her legs like it belonged to someone else—someone happy, someone supportive, someone who believed this wedding was a blessing.
She stared down at herself, fingers trembling as they brushed the skirt.
“Why can’t you just understand?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Why can’t you see that marrying this man is a mistake?”
Her chest tightened, tears spilling freely now.
“I wish you were alive, Dad,” Harper said softly, her voice cracking in the quiet room. “You would’ve stopped this. You would’ve listened to me.”
The room, of course, gave her nothing back.
She wiped her face roughly, forcing herself to breathe. Crying wouldn’t save anyone. Crying wouldn’t get Koda out of chains.
She straightened, lifted her chin, and walked out.
Downstairs, the house was unrecognizable.
Flowers lined the walls, white and gold everywhere. The scent of roses and incense mixed in the air, thick enough to make her dizzy. Voices overlapped—laughter, congratulations, shallow happiness.
People she didn’t recognize turned when she entered.
“Oh, my dear Harper!” a woman exclaimed, rushing toward her with open arms. “Your mother is finally getting married! We are so happy!”
Harper stiffened.
“Excuse me,” she said quickly, slipping out of the woman’s grasp before the hug could land. “I need some air.”
The woman blinked, confused, but Harper was already moving away.
She stood alone near one of the massive pillars, watching the room like an outsider at her own family’s execution.
That’s when she saw them.
Kai entered first—polished, confident, dressed in black that screamed power and entitlement. Alpha Derek followed closely behind him, towering, composed, his presence alone commanding the room. Conversations hushed slightly as people bowed their heads or straightened their posture.
Respect. Fear. Submission.
Harper’s stomach churned.
They didn’t come with Koda.
Her eyes scanned instinctively, hope flaring for half a second—maybe he’d appear late, maybe—
Nothing.
No Koda.
Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
So it was true. They’d hidden him away. Locked him up. Chained him like an animal so he couldn’t ruin their perfect day.
A slow, dangerous calm settled over her.
A plan began to form—not fully, not neatly—but sharp enough to cut.
Koda was the key.
He always had been.
She couldn’t stop this wedding alone. She didn’t have a wolf. She didn’t have political power. She didn’t have allies in this house.
But she had something else.
She had Koda.
And whatever was inside him… whatever Alpha Derek was so desperate to control.
Her gaze followed Kai as he laughed with a group of elites, pretending everything was fine, pretending his brother didn’t exist.
You’re lying to everyone, Harper thought. And I’m done playing along.